b3
Here's the author with her son, Glen,
and husband, Harry, in their new home.
n V te
m II ariz t 1 ft i -"'HBsm
. Joining his parents, Glen helps make
washing dishes a real family affair.
Since she left her job, . pother can
sew her own curtains as Glen watches, j
l mi mi i t ;- ;
H I I . M " 'mi 1
Mmm
. mmmm
TL- ll I. L..ftwLf J'L'iAii I .
The Havwardt built their own ho'me and I
now are putting ori the .final: touches.
66
I wa
SL
But never again, says
the author of this true-life
experience; here's why
she's convinced that
her place is in the home.
WOI
71
o p n ivr n r
by Iris Anne Hayward
I,
lt's time someone spoke up for the forgotten
element in today's back-to-work trend among mothers
the children. We all know the arguments in defense of
working mothers (and I'm not referring to those women
whose children are grown, or to widows and divorcees
who must work to support their families).
Housewives take jobs to help the family budget; to
find more freedom, stimulation, and outside contacts; to
escape the monotony of household chores.
Sure, housework often seems drudgery. Changing
baby's diapers becomes tiresome, the sight of dirty
dishes can cause shudders, and one gets bored seeing
the same faces through the long work week. But what
about the children?
How does it really affect a three-year-old to have
Mother leave him with a neighbor or stranger during
the most important part of his day? Can anyone sin
cerely believe that a couple of rushed hours between
supper and bedtime, a short week end filled with the
crushing necessity to do seven days' housework in two,
is a satisfactory substitute to a small child whose world
consists almost entirely of his home and family?
We're told that a child's most important formative
years are the first five. Those are the years when per
sonality traits, emotional makeup, and mental attitudes
are developed. Yet there seems to be a tendency to
minimize the effects a mother's absence can have on her
offspring. These effects might be overlooked, but they
can't be ignored.
No one can positively know what goes on in the mind
of a very young child, but I do know how having a
working mother affected my own two-year-old son. I
don't know how it affected him subconsciously, but I
saw the visible signs, the changes that were evident
evon to people outside our family.
7 teamed the hard umy that my piooe is at borne.
When owe son Glen was born, I had hehind me nearly
ma jieww wocfe k txcretarf , bolfc before, and yftoc
marriage. Being a full-time housewife was something
new to me, but there was never any question in my mind
that I should stay at home even though I'm no fonder
than the average woman of dusting, washing dishes, or
doing stacks of ironing.
What finally made me decide to go back to work when
Glen was 18 months old was that old demon: financial
necessity. After we were married, my husband had spent
several expensive years completing his education and
was just starting out on the lowest-paid rung of the
teaching ladder. In addition, we were building our own
house, an expensive project on any single income.
1 worked for six months, and there's no denying that
it was stimulating to be back in the business world
after a two years' absence, and that the extra money
was more than welcome. The biggest benefit I derived
from the experfence, though, was the knowledge that all
the money in the world wasn't enough to keep me work
ing once I realized that I had a child at home who
needed me.
As for Glen's reaction, it came as a severe jolt to have
his world turned topsy-turvy. He'd by no means been
kept wrapped in tissue paper. He was used to being left
with baby sitters occasionally, and because he was our
only child, we'd made an extra effort not to spoil him or
have him rely on us too much. But leaving him five days
a week, nine hours at a time, was something else again.
When I first decided to go back to work, I was de
termined to have a woman come into the house. It was
more expensive than taking Glen out, but we were sure
it would give him a greater feeling of security. It still
didn't stop him from crying almost every morning when,
we drove away. Yes, he got over it soon after we left,
but it was an upsetting way for him to start each day.
It didn't help my own peace of mind, either. The only
consolation seemed to be that "he'd get over it," and
"he'd got used to it," The trouble ra that Glen acied
family Weekly. Ajiril 18. 195